Letters: Scenes of Truth
by Rhiannon Merdon
Summary: In this first installment, Snape writes of the last time he saw Lily Evans, before she married James. Soon to come are letters from the Marauders to each other and to Harry, and possibly others. Suggestions, comments, and concerns are appreciated.


You stood in the doorway, an orange halo from the streetlight dulling your auburn hair. My heart leapt into my throat, choking back whatever greeting my stunned mind may have come up with. You looked as nervous as I felt, and watched the ground rather than my face as you spoke.

_Can I come in, Sev?_

Your voice quavered as you asked me, as though I might have said no. I tried to be angry: you hadn't spoken to me in nearly two years, and now here you were at my door. All I could come up with, though, was hope. Perhaps you had finally forgiven me for what I'd said. Perhaps you were finally over that quaffle-brained Gryffindor, and would come back to me. My imagination tugged at me, raising hopes I'd thought were dead and gone. Suddenly self-conscious, I tugged at the left sleeve of my robes, making sure my arms were covered, occupying my hands and eyes for a moment.

_Of course. _

You looked back over your shoulder as you crossed the threshold; were you afraid to be seen with me? I wondered, or was it only the neighborhood? Spinner's End was not a friendly place, let alone at this hour. I couldn't stop watching you. Why were you here? I wanted to ask, but couldn't. You had come, and that was good enough.

_My mother's asleep,_ I told you, looking for something to say as I cleared the remnants of supper and my battered textbook from the sunken brown loveseat in the living room. _And he's gone down to the pub. _Even now I didn't use my father's name. You noticed; I saw the pain in your eyes, and remembered how you were always concerned for me when I went home.

_I was afraid you would have moved away by now,_ you said, your eyes dark with anxiety but carefully avoiding mine. _I wanted to see you._

The clock in the hall chimed once. Tiny figures spun out, whirling together, dancing in celebration of surviving another day, another hour. I waited for you to speak, gestured to the worn cushions of the loveseat. With a half-smile, you finally looked at me, and sat. To sit beside you would have been presumptuous, after what I'd done. A scarred wooden chair rested against the wall; I pulled it over, still waiting for you to speak.

_How've you been, Severus?_

I raised a brow, annoyed at the question. You gave me that tiny smile again.

_Not well, I suppose – _you looked around the room, disapproval written in the creases around your mouth – _I shouldn't have asked that, seeing as you're still here._

I might have been offended, but wasn't.

_I've been well enough. Let me get you something to drink._ Your cloak glistened with frost. I wondered how long you had been outside, and why you had braved the cold and the night to visit me. It wasn't the first time it had happened; only the first time since we were children, before Potter and his gang had made you hate me. Before I realized I loved you, and before you were untouchable. A mudblood, as I had told you, that awful day nearly two years ago. You rose and followed me into the kitchen. I tapped the kettle with my wand, drew two mugs from the cupboard and washed them. It was dark here, deep inside the house where neither the streetlights nor the moon could reach. I could barely see you, only your profile, silhouetted against the embers underneath my cauldron in the corner. Your eyes glittered. I could feel you watching me. And still you said nothing.

_I'm sorry for the mess,_ I said, needing to break the silence. _Eileen – my mother – has been…preoccupied, and I've been studying. For the NEWTS._ I felt like an idiot, but couldn't say anything else. Small talk was never one of my strengths.

The kettle whistled. Armed with tea, we resumed our positions in the living room.

_I've missed you,_ you said finally, breathing in the steam from your mug.

That was not what I had expected to hear. I couldn't help myself: _Why? Surely Potter's many charms have not worn thin…_

You winced and turned on the lamp the Muggle way.

_At least he is honest,_ you returned, regaining your spirit with the flood of light. _He doesn't hide behind a mask, or hate me for being born to Muggles. He cares for me, Severus, in spite of my heritage; and _he_ is a pureblood – _you left the "unlike you" unspoken, but it hung between us. I felt my spine stiffen, my voice go cold.

_So why are you here, Lily? What do you want of me?_

You were pale in the sudden light, your eyes fiercely green. I had never seen you more lovely than when you were angry, and this old anger was all the worse for its aging, like wine. I leaned forward, hesitated, and touched my lips to yours. I had kissed before, and been kissed – not often, granted, but it had happened – and after your own hesitation, you returned the kiss, taking my hand in yours, trailing your fingers up my arm, under the sleeve of my robe. I flinched when you touched my forearm, and instantly regretted it. You broke away from me, but gripped my sleeve in one slim hand. Now it was I that looked away, unable to watch as you remembered what I had become, as you pushed up my left sleeve, exposing the black tattoo.

My voice was hoarse with the restraint of emotion as I spoke to the dingy carpeting.

_You should leave._

You stood now, still holding my hand, palm-up, looking down at me.

_How could you, Sev?_ I heard the heartbreak of the child I had known in her voice, and was glad for the screen of my hair, defending me from her pain. _I – I…_

You dropped my hand; I felt your defeat, felt you deflate your anger into something smaller, more manageable: disappointment, distance.

You walked away from me that one last time, walked to my door. I didn't try to stop you, just watched the carpet under your shoes. Step, step, step, towards the door. You turned to look at me even as the wind blew in, shoving back my hair in streams. A few flakes of snow whisked inside around you.

_James asked me to marry him, Severus. And I'm going to say yes._

You didn't say "don't try to find me". There was no need. I had made my choice, in your eyes, and there was no going back, no salvation. But I suppose even you, Lily, didn't know everything about me; and I can only hope that now, somehow, I've earned your forgiveness.


End file.
